


The Saint of Bern

by dr33g



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuuin no Tsurugi | Fire Emblem: Binding Blade
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, Zine: Live to Serve (Fire Emblem), elen third wheels for everyone but she's okay with it, i call melady sir melady because butch lesbian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:40:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28801455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dr33g/pseuds/dr33g
Summary: Ever since the day the world ended, Elen has always known that loyalty is a fickle thing, not strong as many would assume. Ever since Bern became rotten and began to crumble, flames licking its edges and spreading outward, always outward, she knew that her loyalty was like paper, because she knew that this place she had loved most, second only to Elimine Herself, was burning, too.She looked at Princess Guinivere that day, hoping for answers, and all she saw was her own grief reflected back at her.
Relationships: Chad/Lugh (Fire Emblem), Elen & Chad (Fire Emblem), Elen & Guinevere (Fire Emblem), Elen & Miledy (Fire Emblem), Elen & Zeiss (Fire Emblem), Guinevere/Miledy (Fire Emblem), this is an elen fic first though dont get it twisted, zeiss/galle implied :)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9





	The Saint of Bern

**Author's Note:**

> wwww this fic is actually one of my favorites, i'm really glad i get to share it now !!!  
> i think elen and fe6 deserve more love okay. also gay rights

Ever since the day the world ended, Elen has always known that loyalty is a fickle thing, not strong as many would assume. Ever since Bern became rotten and began to crumble, flames licking its edges and spreading outward, always outward, she knew that her loyalty was like paper, because she knew that this place she had loved most, second only to Elimine Herself, was burning, too.

She looked at Princess Guinivere that day, hoping for answers, and all she saw was her own grief reflected at her.

That night, as she brushed her lady’s hair, Guinivere asked her, “Are you loyal to Bern, Elen?” Elen only faltered for a moment, but years of this ritual kept her arm moving, if only from muscle memory.

“I am loyal to its people, milady.” She heard a sigh of relief and saw Guinivere smile in the mirror.

“So, we're in agreement then?” Elen smiled, timidly.

“I have always been on your side, your Highness.”

“I would never force you to leave your home.” Elen put the brush down, lips pressed into a line.

“Bern is no longer my home, Your Highness. It stopped being so the moment your brother hurt another in her name.” Guinivere reached out, grabbing her hand and squeezing.

“I don’t want you getting hurt for me, Elen.” Elen put on her gentlest smile and squeezed back.

“You are the hope of every innocent life in Bern. It would be wrong of me to leave that hope without support.” Guinivere opened her mouth to thank Elen, but Elen quickly wrapped her arms around her princess. “I go where you go, milady. Besides, St. Elimine has blessed me with knowledge in the healing arts. If I get hurt, I can handle myself.” _I need to keep you safe from harm._

“Thank you, Elen. Thank you.”

The next day, they left the castle with Melady to head to the border. While this had left them without most of their belongings (far more of Guinivere’s had been transferred than Elen’s), it also put them away from Zephiel. For this, Elen was grateful, for she did not know how her princess would respond to having to go so directly against the brother she loved so dearly.

\--

The choice to eventually leave Melady behind was Guinivere’s, that Elen knew, but… It still felt wrong not to tell her.

“Are you certain? I… I know she would want to leave with us.”

“I am. I don’t want to… I don’t want to make her choose between Bern and me.”

“You mean between _Galle and Zeiss_ and you, don’t you.” It isn’t a question. Guinivere doesn’t answer. “Your Highness…”

“It isn’t my place to ask that of her.” Guinevere's voice is quiet, timid, and, above all, _sad_. Elen embraced her princess, holding on tight. She wanted to tell her that Melady loved her, but they were not her words to say. _St. Elimine, please guide these hearts together so that they may never be apart._

Still, she said, “I’ll be with you, my princess, don’t worry.” Guinivere returned the hold.

“Just a few more days, this I swear.”

Unfortunately for them both, it seemed the military of Bern, as rotten and scorched as the king himself, decided to take matters into their own hands. It was even the same day they had planned to leave by themselves. Elen doesn’t remember much of the kidnapping process, only the cold harsh hands of Sergeant Rude over her mouth and throat and the rush of panic. She had prayed to St. Elimine that he had come for her and not her precious princess, hoping this was just a rancid desire. She fainted quite quickly, Rude’s hand on her windpipe tight and unforgiving.  
When she awoke to Guinivere gagged and tied, she nearly fainted again, despair racking her body. Tears flooded her eyes and fell. Had it not been for the cloth in her mouth, she surely would have screamed loud enough for the heavens to hear. Her hope, Bern’s hope, had gone up in smoke.

Until she heard rage that nearly matched her own through the stone of the dungeons.

“ _ **YOU MEAN TO TELL ME YOU**_ **LOST** _**THE PRINCESS**_?” came a recognizable voice, clear despite the layers of rock between them. Elen took a breath of air, relieved beyond belief.

_Melady had awoken._

And judging by the continued (but no longer loud enough to be understood) yelling, she was going to rip these soldiers a new one if Guinivere wasn’t found soon.

Elen looked to her lady, expecting relief, but all she found was terror. Before she could even attempt asking through the gag, another soldier came rushing down.

“Sir Melady has ordered every soldier to search the surrounding area for the princess.”

“But I’m guarding th--"

“She’s counting,” they say, clearly distressed. The guard makes a noise of what Elen assumes is disappointment and rushes up the stairs, leaving her and Guinivere alone.

It takes Elen a bit of fussing and fidgeting, but after a few moments, she managed to push the gag out of her mouth. Thank St. Elimine these men were all imbeciles.

“Your Highness, I’m so sorry. I don’t know how, but the Sergeant must have known about our plans. This is all my fault.” Guinivere shook her head, eyes pleading. Elen flushed with embarrassment. “Oh, goodness! Here, let me help--” The gag went up in flames a short moment later, the princess spitting out ashes with a displeased expression.

“Ugh, that tasted terrible.” Elen blinked, dumbfounded.

“They didn’t even charm the cuffs to keep you from using magic?”

“I bet they assumed I wouldn’t risk it without a tome. Especially since my training to use Aureola was mostly ceremonial.” Elen frowned, seeing the recoil of burns slowly cause Guinivere’s mouth to redden. “Now, come here. I can melt the chains so that you may escape.”

“Princess, you musn’t--!”

“Elen, please listen.” Elen shut her mouth, lips pressed into a line. “They only want me. If you can escape, they won’t follow, and you can get help. Please. You are our hope.” Seemingly reading Elen’s next thought, she continued, “And don’t worry about the recoil. Once we’re free, we’ll find a stave and heal me up, alright?” Elen thought for a moment.

“Oh, alright.” She thanks the goddess once more for the soldiers’ incompetence and lack of chaining them to a wall. She stands and walks to where Guinivere sits, back turned. She hears the princess get to her own feet and turn so that she may grab the short-chain between the cuffs. Heat radiates from between Elen’s hands, and she squeezes her eyes shut. _One, two, three, f--_ The tension between the cuffs releases. She immediately turns around to assess the damage the magic did to her princess.

“Oh, your Highness…” The skin of her hands is bubbling with third-degree burns, the metal cooling on the ground below. Elen can hear Guinivere taking in unsteady breaths.

“Go, Elen, before they return. I can handle myself until then, I swear it.” Elen turned the princess around, looking her in the eye.

“I will find the Lycian army and rescue you, my princess. May St. Elimine guide us both until that moment.” She presses her lips to Guinivere’s forehead, nose, and both cheeks. She lowers her head so Guinivere can do the same, a special blessing they always gave the other when they were nervous.

(She always gave it to Guinivere when she had to deal with her stepmother, and eventually her brother when Zephiel’s heart began to blacken with rot.)

And with that, Elen slipped off her gag, tied it around her princess to hide the evidence of magic use, and squeezed through the rusty bars that easily bent and warped at her hands.

And she ran.  
\--

Her lungs ached, her legs throbbed, but she could not stop. She must keep going, must find the Lycian army, must--

She felt her foot catch on a root and in an instant she’s collapsed on the ground, scraped and dirty. She took a deep breath, prepared to get up and keep running.

“Be careful there!” An unfamiliar voice came from above. Elen looked up to see a boy with red hair, reaching out a hand for her. She smiled gratefully and took it, helping herself up.

“Oh, forgive me! I'm in such a hurry…” She bowed her head in gratitude and embarrassment.

He shook his head, smiling in return. “No need for apologies. Are you hurt?” Elen brushed off her arms, finding that any wounds were light abrasions at best. Nothing that could keep her from moving forward.

“No, I'm fine. Thank you, good sir.” The boy nodded.

“Farewell, then.” Just as she was about to leave, she noticed his headband. That design…

“...Are you from Lycia, by chance?” The boy blinked, clearly surprised.

“I am. I am the son of Marquess Pherae.” Relief flooded through her entire being, tears springing to her eyes. She looked to the heavens.

“Oh, St Elimine! Thank you for guiding me to this boy!” _Thank you, Guinivere. Your blessing has truly done its job. I’ll be back soon._

“Pardon?” She looked back at him, hands folded so that she may beg.

“Please, I need your help to rescue my mistress.” The boy’s face became contemplative.

“What happened?”

Elen took a deep breath, lungs still burning, and began, “My name is Elen. I am a cleric of St Elimine. My mistress and I came from Bern to seek an audience with the lords of Lycia. However, Commander Rude of the castle east of here trapped us. We were captured, imprisoned by our own countrymen.” The older man next to the Marquessling turned to him, clearly upset.

“Lord Roy! We must avoid unnecessary entanglements with Bern!” She was about to open her mouth to make her case, but the boy-- Lord Roy beat her to it.

“But we can't neglect a noble of Bern who wants to speak with the lords of Lycia… Then again, we can't simply charge into enemy territory either…” Once again, Elen prepared to beg, offer her services, her life, _anything_ , when a sound came from behind her. “Wait, who's there?!” A soldier of Bern appeared on the horizon, and Elen felt her blood turn to ice.

“There's the wench! Over here, boys! Get the girl! Our orders say dead or alive!” More soldiers appeared, and with every face, she felt more and more hopeless. _I’m going to die._

“Well, Merlinus, they provoked hostilities. I don't think we have any choice now.” She whipped her head around to Lord Roy, tears of relief finally falling. She looked to the older man, Merlinus, to see if he agreed.

“You wouldn't listen even if we did, I'm sure. But no matter. Let me witness all you've learned about tactics in Ostia.”

“All right, everyone! We're going to charge the castle!” _Guinivere… I did it…!_ “Sister Elen, you should find a place to hide…” She looked at him, confused, then shook her head.

“No, I will come with you. I cannot fight, but I can heal wounded allies.”

“But…”

Her voice turned sharp, replying, “I'm the one that got you tangled up in this mess. Please let me do what I can to help.” The boy looked reluctant.

“OK, but just stay behind us so you aren't hurt.” She sighed, smiling. What a sweet boy the Marquess had raised.

“Certainly. Thank you for your concern.” She received a stave and readied herself for battle.

“I’m coming, your Highness.”

\--

Once Guinivere had been rescued, it took a few weeks before they found Melady. It was only fitting that she had her own chance to rescue the princess, Elen thought, though she wished it had been simpler than that. Her heart had nearly given out when she heard Cecilia and the princess had been captured. Still, when she had seen Trifinne on the horizon, she had known it would be alright.

Guinivere’s hands had been wrapped around Melady’s waist, and Elen’s chest warmed. _I knew she would choose you._

“Your Highness!” She wrapped her lady in a hug. “St Elimine continues to bless you.” She pulled away, looking to Melady as she came up to pet Trifinne. The knight’s face was nervous, ashamed, and Elen gave her a gentle smile.

“Thank you.” Melady’s face hardened with pride and she nodded.

“I am her Highness’ knight before I am anything else.” There was no time to talk beyond that as the battle raged on, but that evening, after Elen had bandaged and blessed and healed as much as her body could handle, Melady came to the healing tent.

“Are you hurt, Sir Melady?” She shook her head.

“May I sit?” Elen nodded. The only people left in the medical tent were those with severe injuries, and they had all been put to sleep to keep them from the pain of the healing process. It was quiet as Melady sat next to Elen, gazing at the bodies all breathing evenly as their bodies rebuild. There were a few moments of that simple, peaceful quiet before Melady spoke up again. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Elen was quiet. “Why?”

“It wasn’t my decision.” Melady froze, then deflated.

“Her Highness said it was to protect my reputation. As if I want to be remembered for anything but being loyal to her.” Melady squeezed her hands into fists. Elen hummed.  
“I suppose that is one way to put it.”

“What do you mean?”

“... It isn’t my place to say.” Melady pressed her lips into a line.

“... Please?” Elen sighed.

“Oh, alright. I can’t say no to you.” Melady’s face softened with gratitude. “Princess Guinivere said that she didn’t want to take you with us because… She didn’t want you choosing between her or Galle and Zeiss.” Melady’s eyes widened. She opened her mouth, then closed it.

“Oh.” A moment. “Zeiss and Galle are adults. They can make their own decisions. If they side with Zephiel… Then they are my enemies. Simple as that.” Elen smiled sadly, placing her arm on Melady’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to choose, you know. When the time comes to fight them, you can stay out of it.” Melady shook her head.

“No. I made my choice. If my inaction directly or indirectly causes her Highness harm, physical or emotional, then I will have failed.” Elen’s smile widened.

“You love her, don’t you?” Melady’s face flushed red.

“ _You--!_ Lady Elen, I’m a married woman!” Elen laughed.

“As Princess Guinivere’s lady-in-waiting, I know full well of marriages done for reasons other than love. It’s something Guinivere has worried about for years, her father always determined her husband would take the throne instead of Zephiel.” Melady looked away.

“That’s it, though. Her _husband_.” Elen squeezed Melady’s shoulder.

“That’s the fun part about being the queen, though, isn’t it? You don’t really have to listen to anyone’s rules but your own.” Melady turned back, looking Elen in the eye.

“... Thanks.” Elen pulled her into a hug.

“Don’t mention it. For you and the princess? I’d do anything.”

\--

“We brought you more lamb’s ear, Sister!” Elen turned to the flaps of the medicinal tent, finding Chad and Lugh holding baskets full of plants, some lamb’s ear, some other medicinal plants she knew could be used in other ways. She grinned at them.

“Bring them here, would you?” They rushed over and placed the baskets on the floor in front of her, looking up at her expectantly. She laughed. “Thank you. A blessing for your trouble.” She leaned down and gave them each a kiss to the forehead.

“Aw, it’s really no problem at all, Sister! We’re just happy to help out,” said Lugh, flushing. Chad nodded along with him.

“Father taught us all of this, so it’s nice to be able to use it.” Elen was about to shower them with more praise when Lugh made a sudden face.

“Oh, no. I promised I’d help Raigh today. Sorry, but I must go right now before he throws a fit. Bye, Sister! Bye, Chad!” The boy ran out of the tent, clearly worried about his brother.

“Such a good boy, that one. He’ll make a wonderful father one day.” She looked to Chad, expecting him to agree, but all she saw was him staring at the exit of the tent. “... Chad? Are you alright?”

“Huh? Oh, yes! Sorry, Miss Elen. I was just… Thinking.” She hummed.

“Want to talk to me about it while we put all of this away? Troublesome of Lugh to leave us all this work, hm?” Chad laughed, but it lacked some of the usual heart.

“Yeah. His fault for being so caring. He overbooked.” Chad began placing the herbs into little sections to be tied off and given to soldiers so that they could provide their own emergency first aid until a healer could get to them.

The two worked in silence for a while before Chad’s hands folded. Elen stopped working to look at him, giving him the time to compose his thoughts and showing him she was listening. “... Miss Elen, what are your plans after all this? After we… Stop fighting.” Elen hummed, taking a moment to think.

“Rebuild Bern, of course, at Princess Guinivere and Sir Melady’s sides.”

“A priestess would have such a good answer,” he grumbled. She laughed.

“If you wanted a different answer, you should have asked Father Saul.” He made a face.

“ _ **No.**_ ” She laughed harder, clutching her stomach. He pouted, looking away.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m teasing.” She took a deep breath to calm herself. “Why do you ask?”

“... Lugh wants to open up a magic school.”

“That’ll suit him, I think. He’d be a good teacher.”

“He’ll be the _best_ teacher.” Chad almost sounded offended on Lugh’s behalf. Elen bit her tongue to keep from laughing again. “It just got me thinking… About what I want to do.”

“Do you have any idea?”

“Well, I can’t keep stealing. But… Other than that, all I want to do is stay with Lugh. Is that… Selfish of me? To want to keep him to myself like that?” _Oh. So_ that’s _what this was about._  
 _Ah, young love… Wait, why do I keep being the in-between when it comes to these things?_

She thought for a moment, then, “Well, being selfish isn’t a bad thing. It just means you’re taking care of yourself. As long as you let his students have his attention for a while, I think it’ll be just fine, hm?” Chad smiled a little, clearly still unsure but a little less nervous.

“Yeah, I guess so.” She smiled at him.

“Now, let’s finish up organizing these herbs, alright?” He nodded, smile widening.

“Yeah, okay.”

\--

The day Galle died was one of the worst ones in all of Elen’s life. Yes, the battle was victorious, but the cost… Elen was taught that all life was of equal value, but Galle’s loss felt greater than all of the rest of the war combined.

Melady didn’t leave her tent for the next few days after that. Only Guinivere was allowed in, and she’d only leave to fetch food for the both of them.

Zeiss was simply quiet, his eyes a little vacant as he went through his daily routine. After a week of it, Elen finally went to his tent.

“Zeiss?” Silence. “May I come in?” Silence, again.

Then came a quiet “Yes.” She pulled back the flap and went in to find Zeiss sitting on his cot, staring at the other side with a blank expression. However, upon closer inspection, his eyes and cheeks were red and wet.

“Oh, Zeiss--” She reached out and hugged him, holding him tight, as he slowly began to sob.

“I killed him, Elen. I killed Galle.” She squeezed him tighter. “I should have talked to him more. I could have convinced him--” She pulled back, face stern.

“Galle made his decision, Zeiss. And he knew what it meant. So did you.” Zeiss pressed his lips together.

“I know, but… It still hurts.” Her face softened, and she pulled him back into the hug.

“I may not be able to use a stave on this pain, but I’m still here to heal you, anyway. I always will be.” He wrapped his arms around her and let himself be held.

And so they stayed like that for a while.

\--

“Guinivere?” Elen asked, brush going through the princess’s hair before bed.

“Yes, Elen?”

“We fight Zephiel tomorrow… Are you sure you can do this?” Guinivere nodded.

“The brother I loved… I lost him a long time ago. It’s time to save our people, to save our Bern.” And so, Elen and Guinivere’s eyes met in the mirror once more, filled with conviction.

And Elen kept brushing.

\--

_Elen returned to Bern with Guinivere to rebuild a land ravaged by war, and to reunite a people devastated by defeat. Her hard work and kind-hearted nature earned her the title, 'The Saint of Bern.'_

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading !!! leave a kudos/comment if you enjoyed !!!! find me on twitter @cowboyterra for more niche fe gay content


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